23 May 2007

I was in my office working on a draft complaint when I felt it: a rumbling sensation in my bowels which grew in ferocity by the second. This doesn’t often occur to me when I’m at the office because I thoroughly cleanse my colon every morning before leaving the house, precisely to avoid situations like this. But it happened and there was no mistaking what’s about to happen.

My first impulse was to go to home, which, by foot, would only take me ten minutes to reach. But the insistent, heavy feeling I was getting called for a more immediate action. I didn’t have the luxury of ten minutes, but the destitution of two. So I grabbed a roll of tissue paper and rubbing alcohol, got out of the office, and looked for a restroom inside our office building, which (1) must not be in the same floor as my office; (2) must be empty; and (3) must be clean.

That brought me to the restroom at the 19th floor, which has two cubicles. The first cubicle I entered had a door that wouldn’t lock. So I tried the other one, which was worse because, although the door could be locked, there was a two inch vertical gap between the door and the partition ---- just enough for a passing voyeur to satisfy his fecophiliac fetish. So I went back to cubicle one.

I heaved a huge sigh of relief when I saw a clean toilet bowl in front of me and thanked God that my hearing this morning at the National Labor Relations Commission was postponed. See, restrooms in most government buildings are hellishly filthy and that’s putting it mildly. I don’t even dare inhale the warm and musky air wafting inside such places for fear of contracting some incurable disease. Thus, whenever I’m in the restroom of a government office, I hold my breath for twenty seconds, pee and flee.

I inspected the bowl closely and saw that it was indeed devoid of leftovers. But having religiously watched The Oprah Winfrey Show, I knew that even the most spotless surface can contain an ocean-full of fecal flora. So I blessed the innocent-looking toilet rim with Holy Isopropyl alcohol --- once, twice, thrice, until the whole bottle was empty --- to exorcise it of all disease-carrying demons with such exotic names as R. Bromii, Peptococcus and Eubacterium-Z.

I pulled my pants and white briefs down, awkwardly, like I’m stripping for a group of elderly perverts, and squatted. At first, I tried just hovering above the rim, not actually touching it. But this no-contact method felt awkward and strenuous even for a yoga practitioner like me. So, after a moment’s hesitation, I sat down and felt the surgically-cold ceramic against my flesh. The chills that ran up my spine had enough energy to power a light-bulb.

I was about to release the captives from prison when I heard a man’s foot-steps, the opening of a zipper, and shushing of piss. Damn. Since I didn’t want the mysterious peeing guy, or anyone else for that matter, to be around when I make a deposit, I delayed the inevitable, much to the chagrin of my impatient prisoners.

I don’t know about you but for me, pooping in the presence of another is quite an intimate act. It’s almost at the same level as French-kissing or opening a joint account. Since I wasn’t in the mood to get intimate with mysterious peeing guy that day, I waited and waited and waited (Mr. Pee had to wash his hands, examine his blackheads, and comb his hair) until he was finally out of the loo.

After what felt like eons, I finally downloaded my files. I was aiming for a silent, Baby Suri-like delivery but a few gargling sounds came out. The neat thing was everything was over in eight seconds and there was no icky splatter.

With military precision, I unrolled the reel of tissue in my hand and began Operation Wipe Off. Some people are thrifty when it comes to tissue papers. They would only use X number of squares, just enough to prevent underwear stains. I’m not like that. I’m the Paris Hilton of tissue papers. I have no problem consuming one whole roll in one sitting if that’s what it takes to feel like a new person.

After I was done, I flushed the evidence of the crime three times, got dressed, and wiped off the cold, nervous sweat off my face. Before I left the cubicle, I made sure no one was outside because I didn’t want to be seen by anyone as The Guy Who Just Defecated.

Coast was clear. I got out of the cubicle, went to the sink, and washed my hands with soap and water while humming “Happy Birthday” in my head. (Experts recommend this practice to effectively kill the germs populating one’s hand.) I then dried both hands with tissue and resumed my interrupted day. Of course, later, at home, there was more thorough cleansing which had to be done.

This happened to me before and it was a nightmare! LOL!(That's why one does not experiment with different foods when in the office) I create a barrier by making a disposable toilet seat cover by placing thick layers of toilet paper, and flush a million times while the excavation project is going.. The most important thing is acting nonchalant when you leave ; )

the last time something like this happened to me was when i was still in high school. it was an experience i wouldn't want to reccur. the cold sweats. the motion stopping spasms. i have used the crs in melchor hall once or twice during college. like you, i make sure that it's in the middle of a class, and a floor with less traffic.

Why is it that we Filipinos think having to do the number 2 in public restrooms is such a shameful act? I've been living in the US for 13 years and I still get a little self-conscious about it. But I've learned to force myself to go into that stall even if there are coworkers in the restroom, and take care of my business. Hey, it is a public restroom and I'm entitled to do what is a natural act. I do practice that courtesy flush after every poop; It keeps the odor to a minimal. But going back to the question, why the shame?

re "pooping in the presence of another is quite an intimate act. It’s almost at the same level as French-kissing or opening a joint account..." - can totally identify. for me, farting "explicitly" in front of someone is a sign of intimacy. i am able to take a dump only in front of someone i seriously consider having a lasting relationship with.

misterhubs, i think this is actually my first time reading your entries, you really write good and it's really amazing how one unothodoxly simple ahh... sum'tin could be so funny like this hahaha you're a great writer! enjoyed reading - i guess this is the 3rd i read! hehehe